The Viking
by I-36Experiemental
Summary: A shield-maiden has been plagued by misfortune, witnessing the death of her shield-brother changed her life. For better or worse, remains to be seen. But her life will never be fulfilled now, with the gates of Valhalla forever closed to her; she may find solace with a new family one day, but that day might be far off...
1. Chapter 1

"Look! Seagulls, we're near land!" Bellowed one of the Vikings, they finally reached the land on the west side of the sea! Sigrdrifa felt relief, no longer did she have to row, and excitement she finally got to see the rich lands Ragnar Lod'brok and his men told of them. The shield-maiden felt the anxiousness that always comes at the start of every raid, and she was already craving the blood her sword and axe will draw. She smiled-internally, her father gifted her with a fine-steel sword and axe for the trip, the sword she coveted since she was a little girl, Ulfbehrt.

As they neared the beach, she saw little silhouettes of men on the beach, likely soldiers. The other Vikings noticed them to, she heard the excited quiet talking at the prospect of battle when they landed. She too, was excited for her new blade's maiden battle. They were almost on the shore when she saw the armored men lower their spears, and when they shored up, Ragnar leapt off the ship and she heard the men on the beach speak, words she did not know; but as the rest leapt out of the ships, she noticed the leader's men fidgeting. They were far smaller than the men of her home, some being smaller than herself. Their leader tried speaking again, but Ragnar just smiled and bellowed. "Attack!"

They fight was short, the leader of the men rode off and escaped as his men were slaughtered, Sigrdrifa smiled at the blood on her blade and axe, her bloodlust satisfied for now. "They were tiny, who decided these were suitable men for warriors?" The shield-maiden turned to see her friend Leif approach her, "They will have to do better than this, they didn't even scratch my shield." "They were pathetic, but I am sated for now." Leif grinned slyly, "Oh? You don't have any other needs that need sated?" Sigrdrifa scoffed playfully at her married friend, "And what would your wife say? You're a horrible liar and she asks if you had me every time we go back."

Leif rolled his eyes as he grabbed a sack of furs and handed the shield-maiden the crate of dried salted meats. "And I'm sure she wouldn't mind if I said I had. You know, I've caught her pleasuring herself while moaning out your name." He replied cheekily. "Ha! It sounds like she'd rather have me herself!

 **Line Break**

She lost track of how much she ran, and how much time past. It must've been three days, since she first ran into the Predator. It looked like a woman, a beautiful one at that; even when compared to herself, who many thought her beauty made Freyja herself jealous. Whatever the Predator truly was, it was horrible. The red eyes, cold thick skin; she thought the creature was _Jotun,_ but this creature feasted on blood. She watched in horror when the creature drained her life-long friend Leif.

She was covered in thick layers of mud and leaves, hundreds of twigs decorated her braids; because she quickly learned the creature was toying with her, and tracked by scent. The earthly smells throw it off, but if it's close enough it'll just listen for her heart. When she was caught, the creature just laughed and let her run again. Oh, how the mighty has fallen. Here, a legendary shield-maiden, sprinting like a mad-woman through the thick of the woods.

 **Line Break**

The Vikings set their camp just before the forest-lining outside the English town, Ragnar told them they were attacking mid-day the morrow, when the bells wrung. "Why do you think we're waiting? Their warriors will be a passing distraction at best, why not attack now?" Sigrdrifa shook her head at her impatient friend. "We do what Ragnar says, because we all chose to follow him. I do not like it myself, but there is nothing we should do about it. He is a skilled warrior and intelligent strategist." Leif sprawled out on his back and scoffed, "And we know they're weak and tiny." The shield-maiden sprawled out on her back next to her friend, they finished their camp less than an hour ago and they heard the quiet merriment of their shield-brothers. "If you have a point Leif, please get to it. I may not know Ragnar well, but he doesn't strike me as a man who does things needlessly. We shall know what he has planned on the morrow."

 **Line Break**

She heard the chilling laugh of her predator, and stopped in her tracks. She knew she was caught, but she was tired of the humiliation. Tired of the running. She drew her axe from her belt below her ruined fur and chain tunic, and turned to the smirking predator, "I will not run from you anymore, if I die here I will dine with the gods and fight for glory with my shield-brothers in the Halls of Valhalla." Her predator stopped smirking and showed her blindingly white teeth. With a roar of pure fury, she charged her hunter; she knew it was futile, her opponent had superior strength and speed, and nigh-impenetrable skin. But she was a warrior-maiden, and she refused to die a coward. Her opponent caught the axe casually, but with surprising strength and tact, the warrior immediately tackled the monster to the ground, and bashed its head against the stones below them when it paused in confusion. None ever fought back, they just ran. She wasn't confused for long before she ended up wrestling with her prey, confounded by the strength and speed the warrior possessed. The predator was obviously not experienced in fighting, almost completely relying on her prey's instincts to run for her game. The warrior slammed her opponent into a tree, where the monster pushed back with its strength. Sigrdrifa landed on her back, and the blood-drinker pounced and pinned the warrior to the ground. She refused to accept her fate, and grabbed the nearest decent sized rock and tried bashing its head in, but it proved to be futile.

The monster laughed in triumph, it defeated the prey; but stopped and thought for a moment, the shield-maiden was ferocious, and strong-willed. Even in defeat, its prey scowled in defiance, not begging for her life. The monster understood one thing about its prey, she was going to fight, and die fighting for Valhalla. It smiled chillingly, and decided to humiliate the Shield-maiden one more time…. By denying her Valhalla. With that thought, it bit the young woman, infecting her with its disease. Vampirism.

 **Line Break**

The raid went perfectly for them, they snuck in when the bells wrung; and everyone was in the center building worshipping their God. They ended up just disarming the warriors, and raided all the plunder. "This is what Ragnar waited for. Next time I question him, just hit me." Leif mumbled to his friend, who was smirking at his grumbling.

That night, they celebrated after moving their camp. Leif and Sigrdrifa stood watch, ensuring nothing happened on their camp. "This is boring." "And necessary." "Doesn't mean I like it." "No one said you had to." "Shut up." "Make me." "I'm married, remember?" "If you don't shut your mouth you'll never please your wife again."

Leif started crackling, trying to keep it in, but it just made Sigrdrifa laugh at him. That's when a woman stepped out of the shadows, like a ghost and beckoned Leif. "I'll be right back… I think I saw something, Sigrdrifa shrugged, she was facing the other way and didn't see anything; nor was she interested in whatever Leif saw.

Well, that was up until he gone for several hours. "Hey, someone take watch. Leif wondered off." She quickly got up with her torch and followed the clumsy footsteps in the soft, wet soil.

After roughly an hour, she found the end of his tracks. They led to a small clearing next to a clean pond, where she saw an eerily pale woman sucking her friends cock, and was about to interrupt when she saw him pull her off and came all over face. She stood up, and at first she thought the woman was going to kiss him, but she saw the _thing_ bite into his neck and drained him of his blood….

 **Line Break**

When the shield-maiden woke from the burning agony, she was alone. And thirsty. The _thirst…_ _it quickly dominated her every thought. Her thirst dominated every instinct, every action, and every desire was overruled by her need for blood. That's when she realized she could hear the blood rushing and heart pumping of something near-by. Running to it with great speed, she quickly found the source. A young doe, with it's wide-eyes and narrow ears, it stopped in its track of its soon-to-be predator. Its thoughts turned to running, knowing what it saw would be its predator. Its instincts however…. Knew it was futile, and they screamed at the young creature when the predator pounced on it._

Sigrdrifa was confused, she knew she never drank blood before. She knew it was wrong. She knew something was very wrong. The burning in her throat is still bad, and foreign. She squinted in frustration as she tried to focus, but everything is clouded. Her thirst is still predominant; the doe barely took the edge off. She punched a tree in frustration, and the tree splintered. Something… something isn't right…

 _Her thirst came back quickly when she smelled something that got too close. It didn't smell like the doe. It smelled far better, it jogged muddled memories of a drink she used to enjoy. It smelled like distinctly like honey, making her mouth water. She stalked the scent until she heard the heartbeat of the creature, with her speed she quickly found the source. It was man, probably a hunter. She saw every detail with perfect clarity, the fair skin, the light stubble from when he shaved the night before, the rough callouses on his hands, and his rough and course hair from long-days hunting in the forest. Without thinking, she pounced and tore into his throat. This blood tastes far better than the doe. It quenched the burning quickly, and she finished it very quickly._

The shield-maiden was sated; the burning was gone. She knew it would be back, but she could think with far more clarity. She sat down, covered in blood from her victims. She remembered a few things… Her arrival here, with her friend. What was his name? Her memory showed him, a tall man with a thick well-cared for beard and friendly green eyes. Then more memories jogged back, the battle on the beach, her sword carving destruction through the warriors protecting their home, setting up camp with other warriors, most as big or bigger than her friend. The raid on the small time, and the nighttime merriment at the relocated camp, the treasure they plundered was bountiful. She remembered the watch with the green-eyed man, and him going missing. She sat there, thinking back on the memories as they slowly came to clarity, when she finally recalled the friends name…. Leif.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: **I should've clarified, I'm breaking vampire's knees with the nerf bat. Enough so a fit human experienced in fighting can give them a challenge. Where's the fun when the vampires are practically invincible? Also, the ending to the first chapter was kind of crap, I know. And I forgot about this thing's existence for a while.**

Sigrdrifa shifted in discomfort on artist's blanket, she has been lying on it for about 7 hours now; in the broad sunlight. It causes mild discomfort at best, and makes her feel like she's standing in fire at worst. If she doesn't think about it, it doesn't feel _that_ bad. Ignoring it is a skill she's perfected in the last… was it 300 years? 400? She's had plenty of time to perfect that skill, along with controlling her previously rampant thirst.

"I must ask you to stop! Anymore movement and it won't accentuate your beauty correctly!" She simply sighed and bore the discomfort. She's also regretting having her portrait done in her nudity. ' _Why in the name of the All-father's beard did I agree to this?'_ "No need to scowl my dear, it's almost finished."

The artist thought about his luck running into such an… exotic beauty. She was obviously a descendent of the fearsome warriors that once struck fear into the hearts of his countrymen, her long blonde hair in elegant braids, her body art oddly enticing in intricate lines and patterns. Her eyes are what made him want to paint her, the ruby red's uniqueness was too good to ignore. Her choice in wardrobe was bold, opting to pose in her nudity. Not an entirely rare choice, but still one unexpected. "Alright my dear, your portrait is finished. I've but a few more touches to add, come back tomorrow, you can see it then."

Sigrdrifa simply nodded and stood, putting her clothes back on. She could always appreciate the heavy velvet outlined with furs. A bit modern touched up with the era she was born in. Finally strapping her Ulfbehrt back in its place firmly strapped to her back, she decidedly took her leave.

 **The next day**

She walked back to the artist's home, stopping in her tracks and snarling quietly when she smelled the familiar sickly sweet berries that's native to her species. She didn't smell blood, and it's a few hours old, but whoever it is could still be here. She ran into very few since she turned, but they were _never_ friendly. This was mildly familiar, and anything familiar never ended well for Sigrdrifa…

She quietly followed the scent to the balcony, it was late in the day, just after dusk. Her scent still lingered heavily there, and she found the artist lounging and chatting excitedly with a pretty blonde with bouncing gold blonde hair. Her features were Russian to a fault, "Ah, I see you have another visitor." Her accent also indicating it so.

"Ah! Sigrdrifa, I was wondering when you were going to come back. Your portrait was finished this morning." He gestured toward the easel, and Sigrdrifa was impressed, he was clearly inspired. As opposed to rolling hills beyond his balcony as a back drop, he painted a hut wall, covered in furs and had several bear heads painted on them. She was lying on a thick fur rug, a deer skin blanket draped over her legs, and her sword was painted in to; the blade itself lying point to floor, on her hip with its scabbard lying in front of her. "So, what do you think?" He asked rather hopefully. Truth be told, she was impressed. He even got the detail of her body art correct.

"I like it." She answered simply. No reason to show what she truly thought about it, lest he got a big head.

The Russian vampire cleared her throat and the artist cursed himself, "Where are my manners? Irina, this is Sigrdrifa. The subject of my masterpiece! Her beauty is astonishing, correct?" Irina nodded and added, "And here I thought you were going to tell me this painting came to you through a vision of a pagan goddess. Excellent work like always, Jean."

Sigrdrifa frowned slightly at her wording _'Vision of a pagan goddess.'_ She narrowed her eyes in suspicion when she noticed the other vampire had gold eyes, as opposed to the trademark red common in their kind. _'Is she a different kind of vampire? Or does she do something different?'_

"I see. A pleasure to make your acquaintance Irina." The Nordic blonde curtsied, she gritted her teeth in the movement. It felt so foreign, she misses her people with each day passing. But her disgust in what she is drove her forever away from them.

"And yours Sigrdrifa. But, I must take me leave. Jean, we'll be here in the morning for the family portrait." Irina curtsied back and left promptly.

Jean turned back to Sigrdrifa and smiled politely, "Several nobles came by to look at the 'rumored' masterpiece I made. You should be happy to know they showed a great deal of interest in it, I told them to wait, since I planned on offering you first chance to buy your portrait." She didn't want it, she had no way of keeping it since she was to leave France in one week's time.

"I would love to buy it, alas I have neither the money nor the place to store it when I leave France. I bid you to take the highest offer." The artist sighed, she was leaving so soon, he wouldn't get another opportunity to paint the goddess-like woman before him.

"In that case, would you like your name as the title, or would you like to remain anonymous?"

"Anonymous if you will. Good day." She bowed her head and quickly left before the artist could get another word in. Well, he thought, if she wishes to remain anonymous then I shall title it. The words ' _Pagan goddess'_ wrung in his head, and he smiled, engraving a small silver plate with the name of his life's masterpiece " **Freya, Queen of the Valkyries"**


End file.
